Auguries of Experience
by darkfaery15
Summary: In the aftermath of the war, how will Hermione and Hogwarts move through the devastation?. EWE?


**a/n: Don't worry, I don't do these too often, just wanted to let you know i'm open for requests as the the ship in this story..but if i don't get any input I'll just have to surprise you :)**

**However, please review, i love input and constructive criticism...especially in regards to my writing style. Thanks for reading, enjoy the story. **

**Disclaimer: The Characters and 'verse belong to Rowling...The title belongs to William Blake...the plot is an original to the best of my knowledge (lol).**

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The darkness peers through the windows, no longer the friend it had been while on the run, instead of a blanket of safety it oozed menace, whilst clinging to the glass of the

window. I know there's no need to fear much of anything now, least of all the dark. The small, intelligent, exasperated voice in the back of my head huffs at me for my nonsensical fear as

I lay trembling in bed, most decidedly _not_ turning on the lights. A trickle of moisture down my arm shoots adrenaline through my body and before I know it I've leapt out of bed, cast a

rather strong protego, followed by lumos, and then a series of shielding spells nigh simultaneously. As I stand tense and ready, panting and sweaty in my nightgown, there is nothing to

see but my sparse bedroom at Grimmauld, the only noise being the gentle pit pat of my blood hitting the floor from small rivulets in my palm, which I quickly deduce must have come from

clenching my fists in bed. At this point the small voice in my head has given up clinging to any semblance of normalcy and so I turn all the lights on in my room, casting protective spells

over the windows and door, and lie down in an attempt to get some measure of rest, lights blaring and wand in hand, I finally fall into a fitful sleep.

* * *

I wake several hours later to torturous screams from the next bedroom. They are slightly muffled, which has a lot to do, I'm sure, with the silencing spell cast on the door, which

makes me shudder to think what they will sound like by the time I am able to bypass the barrage of warding spells set on this particular room; however, I, being who I am, and knowing

the occupant as well as I do, make quick work of it, and am soon treating to an ear-splitting volume, which, If it had been femininely high as well, may have sent me reeling. Regardless, I

hurry to Harry's side, taking him in my arms, receiving his wand at my throat in thanks. Some part of him, however, must know it's me , sleeping in such close proximity for such an

extended period of time as we did, and his wand arm quickly relaxes as he melts into my grasp, sobbing. By the time he's conscious enough to care he has calmed down enough that it

doesn't matter, and I hear two pairs of feet bounding up the stairs as Ron and Ginny burst into the room, wands at the ready, but considerably less expectant as I had been. This is

becoming more and more common of an occurrence, which, sadly, I do not think means it was uncommon before, but that we are all getting so sleep deprived that our silencing charms

are weakening. After it is established that there are no vengeful Death Eaters in residence, everyone slowly relaxes; and after a few enlargement charms, we all craw into Harry's newly

modified bed together.

* * *

We wake up in an ungainly tangle of limbs, slowly peeling open sealed eyelids, at the crack of dawn. Our morning smiles are considerably less sheepish than the first…or second…

or fifth time something similar occurred.

Sometimes it would be Ron who got set off, or me, and, very rarely, even Ginny, though most often it was Harry (which quite possibly just means that my charm abilities were just

stronger to begin with). Our sleep is considerably less restless when we are all together, which I would venture to theorize as being because of our familiar magical signatures, or,

perhaps even more simply, our comforting scents. I still don't have the courage to suggest we start out together either, especially as Molly and Minerva seem to have come to some sort

of alternating 'checking up on the kids' schedule. Fred is still in St. Mungo's emergency care unit, having yet to wake up, and Andromeda has taken charge of Teddy for the foreseeable

future, at least until Harry is able to "sort things out" with himself, or so she said. Contrary to popular belief, not all wizards and witches have elongated life spans, it tends to be

proportional to one's power and experiences, and although Mrs. Tonks doesn't want for power, the war and the loss of her daughter seems to have aged her decades. Anyway, it won't

do to have someone stop by for nighttime tea, or early breakfast and find the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Conquer-the-Dark-Lord (try saying that five times fast) in bed with all of his friends. So, at

the crack of dawn, like always, we smile our considerably less sheepish smiles and file out of Harry's room to find out own separate beds.

* * *

Sure enough, at 10 a.m. it is Molly's voice, constrained in a facsimile of cheeriness, calling "Up and at 'em, dearies", that causes us to cease and individual ceiling inspections and

head down to the kitchen (with the exception of Ron, who is apparently lagging enough to warrant Molly's bustling in and opening all of the drapes in his room). In another newly honored

ritual Ron and Ginny pretend to whine about Molly's interference while Harry and I plaster on smiles 1.0 and 2.3 respectively whilst Molly pretends not to notice the growing circles under

our eyes and the way our clothes hang off our bodies. "Thanks Mrs. Weasley" Harry says with a gentle smile, accepting a rather large stack of waffles. "Really Molly", I say in turn, "I hope

you're not troubling yourself too much."

"Gosh Mum, so embarrassing", Ron mumbles through a mouth full of bacon, looking at Ginny who smiles tiredly. "Nonsense, I'm convinced that if I weren't here to feed you, none of

you would ever eat!" Molly announces brusquely, sliding tow more pieces of toast onto my plate, whilst passing Ginny the orange juice. The same sorts of comments are bandied about for

several more minutes, after which Ginny and I help Molly clear the dishes up with a few quick spells. Then the boys quickly usher Molly out the floo, after which we all collapse bonelessly

onto an assortment of plush chair and lounges in the den.

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**a/n : thanks to all of you who have been faithfully checking my story :) i'll be sure to get another longer chapter up, as it seems hopefully some of you are enjoying it...once again, please review and share your ideas with me...i'll be giving out faux cookies and hugs to each reviewer.**


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